Queer
by Hannah Michaelis-Faustus
Summary: Pietro is having a hard time dealing with his 'gay' issue and soon Lance is wondering is he has a crush on him and so confusion leads to more confusion which leads to love. Basically. So confusion and gay mutants, hazzah. Lance/Pietro


Author's note:

Okay, So this chapter has a little bit of gay bashing, fat hating (if you squint) and self hatred because you are gay. I mean no disrespect, hell, I'm a fat lesbian who is fighting self-harm so, before you go and be idiots (because everyone is an idiot but we love you anyways) read it and if you feel I was way too wrong and it was useless and super uber offensive then maybe I won't be a bitch back. But we love you, we as in my girlfriend and I (she actually probably doesn't but for the sake of frostiron {which this fic actually isn't} don't be an idiot jerk-bitch- ass-butt [ten-points if you caught that and understood the reference]) Also, there is a little Avengers cameo, but it isn't going to be continuous therefore didn't feel like it was really a crossover.  
_

Pietro was buzzing around like the busy little bee he was when he decided to just sit down and chill on the couch. He jumped back up when he felt hands running through the two gravity-defying pieces of hair upon his head.

"What the hell?!" and before the culprit could answer Pietro was already zipping around the room again.  
"Jeez, don't get all freaked it it was just Me."  
"I know," he stopped humming, "that's why it was so annoying."  
He was off again, and Lance took his spot on the couch, propping his feet on the table and put his hands behind his head.

"Why does your hair do that?"  
Pietro stopped finally, with heated left-over spaghetti in his hands, he plops down next to Lance and between bites, "Do what?"

Lance just moves his fingers around his head like it explains everything and shakes his head, "That things, they stick up and stuff."  
"Um, why does your hair do that thing rock head?"  
"What thing? Be normal!?"  
"Psh, what's so normal about being normal you idiot?"  
"Jerk."  
"Bitch."  
"Ass."  
"Fucker!"

"Queer!"

Pietro stood up, "What did you just call me?" and Lance wanted to take it back, he waved his hands around, this time in front of him. "Don't worry, it was nothing."  
"Lance Alvers you tell me right now that you did not just call me a _queer_."  
"I-I didn't. Did not."

Pietro threw his free hand up and scoffed, "Of course you would use that against me! I tell you one thing and you change it and turn it around!" Pietro set the food down and glared for a second before rushing out, leaving a trail of flying papers and a broken (empty) bowl on the floor.

Lance felt bad, he shouldn't use that, it wasn't a bad thing it was just weird. He didn't even like showering anymore when _he_ was in the house. What if he was watching him of something? Still though, that was wrong and now he would have to ascend those squeaky stairs and go to his room and apologize to Quick.

He knocked and the door creaked opened and turned in by itself.  
"Pietro? Quick? Quickie boy?" he laughed at himself, "Let's pretend I didn't call you that."  
It was the sounds of zipping across the room his turned and saw the bathroom door was shut. The shadows in the crack underneath the door zipped back and forth. Lance knocked on that door.

"Leave me alone," in a low sad tone. He was hurt and now the man who hurt him was bothering him. He needed some time.

Calling him a 'queer' may seem like it was nothing, a common insult, but it hurt because it was, well true, and he hated himself because of it. He hated 'queers', 'fags' those 'gays', but when it came down to it, he was a little - not straight – and he hated it about himself. Why him?

"I'm sorry," Lance slid down the door, his palms on the cool white wood to the bathroom. He picked at the paint as he slid his fingers of the opposite hand beneath the door. He felt a cold touch and as quick as it happened it was gone.

"Are you deaf? I said leave me alone you bitch-face-whore-mouth!" The pacing at speed had stopped and he rested on his knees against the door, he was actually trying to restrain tears, and he was doing a fine well job until he could hear Lance's breathing through the door.

"Damn it! Go away!"

But Lance didn't move, he slid another hand under the door and waited, still breathing on the door, still picturing _his_ Pietro speeding around in the constraints of the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," he repeated and he pulled one hand back to try and open the door but it was locked. "Open the door?"

Pietro's own hand hovered, shaking, above Lance's.  
"If I wanted it open I'd unlock it."

That's when the house started to shake.  
"Knock it off," Pietro hissed to the man on the other side of the door. He shook his head, "It's not me."

Freddie came running up the stairs, holding his chest as he panted from the physical labor. Lance turned around quickly removing his hand from the door and pushing himself away from the door completely changing from looking sad and caring to touch and, well, not-caring.

"The brats are on a move, to help with some ego green guy, some alien. She wants us to watch over them, says the one is kinda mutant."

"Kinda mutant?" Lance scoffs and laughs as he rises, "whatever, let's go watch someone else get hurt. Pietro isn't coming, he's a little busy, not feeling well."  
"Um, okay."

Lance and Freddie had left and Pietro opens the door. He jumps onto his bed and lays on his back, gawking at the ceiling. His eyes open, more so than they had been before.

"God he's such a prick." He rolls over and pulls a pillow over his head.

His phone chimes and he answers it, unimpressed.

**Are you okay? I'm sorry. –LA**

**Peachy. –Q**

Pietro chuckled, satisfied with his not only smart but _quick_ response. Sarcasm was coming earlier, and he was blaming it on Joss Wheedon…but Buffy the Vampire Slayer was such a great show!...but nowadays, he needed the wit to snap by in life.

His phone chimed again and he once again pulled it up and held it in front of him.

**Watching the Avengers fight some alien with horns. It's like a Joss Wheedon movie, I swear. I'll send you some of the recordings, I tapped into Iron Man's com link. –LA**

Lance always knew what he was thinking about. That's what was so nice about him, all flaws aside, and that was half of him because he was basically built on flaw.

**Why can't you just watch it later, on the TV, I bet it's all being filmed – Q**

**You can't just watch this on a screen. This is made to be felt. –LA**

**Tell Thor 'hi' will ya?-Q**

**Okay. -LA**

**I was kidding. -Q**

**Too late. –LA**

Pietro was calm and knew that Lance wasn't that dumb to go out and try to talk to Thor during and alien invasion, but the twitching in his leg and the way his hand shook, he dialed his number and pressed it against his ear as it got all sweaty and uncomfortable.

_"Hello?"_  
"Hi," Pietro rolled his eyes as Lance basically sung his words. "You didn-"  
_"Really give the blonde waving a hammer than weights more than the planet during an alien attack your message of 'hi'?" _There was a taunting pause, as Pietro was about to speed down there to kick ass but he heard the giggling on the other end, _"Of course I didn't. He's up on a tower now shocking some blue aliens."_

Pietro let out his breath and smile finally.

"Just come home in one not electrified or alien-i-fied fuckin' piece and I'll be happy." He hung up. He wasn't man about the 'queer' thing, he was glad that he got over it so quickly. But hey, he's always quick.

He sent a text out.

**Too quick for you love? -Q**


End file.
